


A Moment in Between

by salienne



Category: Torchwood
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-08
Updated: 2009-07-08
Packaged: 2017-10-22 14:11:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/238891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salienne/pseuds/salienne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a short scene in the back seat after Children of Earth: Day 2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Moment in Between

Jack gets into the car just after him, and he can still barely believe it, that they’ve done it, that Jack’s alive. Jack’s car door slams shut and immediately Gwen’s foot is on the gas petal, the car surging forward, and Ianto’s hand rests at the edge of the small hump separating the back seat into halves. He turns to look at Jack.

Although there is not a scratch on him, Jack’s face and hair are covered in dirt and specks of concrete—his entire _body_ is—and somehow the coat slung over his shoulders just makes him look more vulnerable. It’s the handcuffs, Ianto realizes. The damn handcuffs they had on him, as if the concrete wasn’t enough, keeping him from doing something so simple as putting one arm in one sleeve, one arm in the other; and just for a moment Ianto’s hands clench.

Jack is still looking forward at the seat in front of him, breaths coming fast and his face relaxed into something that is not quite a frown but is not quite peace either. Perhaps he senses Ianto’s gaze then, because he turns his head and he smiles.

“You okay?” Ianto asks, keeping his voice down though he’s not quite sure why. He knows the answer and he knows what’s going to come out of Jack’s mouth before he even speaks; but at a time like this, what else is there to say?

“Never better,” and Jack’s voice is so casual. “Told you I could survive anything.”

Ianto raises his chin, jaw loosening, but no banter or thanks leave him then. He smiles and he nods, but that’s all he does. He watches as Jack’s smile falters, watches as Jack sits up and turns his body, jacket slipping back from his left shoulder; and he is just that little bit closer now, every one of his muscles still so tense regardless of just how exhausted he must be. “Ianto-”

And that’s when Ianto grabs him and wraps his arms around him, so tightly he’s afraid he’s going to remind Jack of that concrete but he hopes not, he really truly hopes not, because he can’t let go. He buries his face in Jack’s neck and smells dust, rock, and he just keeps breathing and holds on tighter. Seconds pass, jerks of the car and the scratching of rock against the sides and the tires, and gradually he realizes that Jack can’t exactly return this embrace, not with his hands cuffed and crushed between them. Ianto can feel the chain against his stomach and legs and he relaxes his hold.

A part of him expects Jack to make some crack about how if he wanted him in handcuffs, he should’ve said so, and he is already bracing himself to ignore it and keep hugging him close when he feels a tug on the front of his coat—Jack’s hands, and then Jack’s face against his ear, cheek, shoulder. He hears Jack’s breathing, slower now but ragged, and he feels the fabric of his coat warming beside his neck.

Gradually Jack’s hands move upward, pushing Ianto back just a little, and then they are cool and dry by his jaw and Jack’s face is so close it nearly blurs.

Jack kisses him then, fierce but lingering—not like last time, not because of bombs and life or death and, Christ, Jack was so close to not making it, they were all so _close_ —but his lips are soft against his, his tongue and his hands and his touch, every crack on his lips and just the feel of him, so familiar. Ianto runs his fingers through Jack’s hair, feeling the rubble and pushing it away, scratching gently at Jack’s scalp. Even with Jack returned or maybe because Jack has returned, his chest aches thinking of what he could have lost but didn’t.

“Oi, you two!” Rhys’s voice. Ianto pulls back, instinctive. Looks over. “We’ve got a baby in this car, y’know. If you two wanna-”

“Rhys.” Gwen, shaking her head; Ianto spots her eyes in the rearview mirror, sharp and sorry, and then it hardly matters anymore because it’s just him and Jack again, Jack’s cool blue eyes like an anchor, a magnet; and his hands on Ianto’s skin.

Jack’s fingertips brush along Ianto’s jaw line. “I’m alive,” Jack tells him, and Ianto can see every speck of gray in Jack’s eyes, hear every draw of air.

“You better be.”

Jack loops his arms over Ianto’s head then, pulling him to his chest. Ianto’s throat aches and for just a few more moments he allows himself to stop worrying about how they’re going to fix this mess and still come out alive. For just a few more moments, he allows himself simply to hold on, his lips at Jack’s pulse.


End file.
